My Sun Rises and Sets With You. Chapter 14/20: Hurt
After Connor had left, Lester quietly tidied up the books that had been left out on the shelf, tucking the strip of photographs back where they had been. He took Connor's collar into the bedroom and shut it away inside his bedside drawer.
Becker let him carry on without a word, but as Lester then moved as if to continue with their normal evening routine he stopped him.
"Aren’t we going to talk about this?"
"I fail to see what there is to talk about. Connor won't speak to either of us in that mood so we're better off waiting until tomorrow."
"You’re not even going to check he's safe?"
"He's with Abby. We both know she will look after him, and for that matter he's quite capable of taking care of himself. I would be more concerned as to which of our body parts Abby will try to extract from us to feed to her ever-growing collection of pets."
"But James..."
"Becker!" James snapped. "There is no point discussing this! Connor is gone and it's my fault. I should have told him about us a long time ago, but I thought I knew better. What exactly do you expect me to do?"
Becker paused, halted by Lester's outburst. Lester took a deep breath.
"I’m sorry." he said, following it up with a snort. "I’m going to be saying a lot of that in the next few days." He turned to look out of the bedroom window before closing the curtains.
"What can I do? Should I talk to him?" Becker asked from behind him.
"No, not tonight. But there's something I need you to do for me."
Becker stared at James’s back; that was a tone he had never heard before.
"I need you to hurt me."
"What?"
Lester spun on him again, venom in his voice. "I said I want you to hurt me, Becker. Surely that is not outside your realm of comprehension?"
Becker bit the inside of his mouth in an attempt to keep his temper under control. He was hurting too and he didn't need James Lester's particular brand of disdain on top of that.
"I’m not going to hurt you, James."
Lester took a couple of steps forward, invading Becker's personal space until they were nearly flush together.
"Never forget who is in charge here. I am ordering you to hurt me or, so help me god, I will spend every day making you regret it."
Becker's chest hurt with the effort of keeping his breathing under control. The pair stared at each other, eyes locked together. The room was soundless save for their breathing which was becoming increasingly heavy as the tension hummed between them.
Lester finally opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Becker's hand flashing up and wrapping itself around Lester's throat. He spun them both and pushed Lester up against the wall, still keeping their bodies close but apart. Becker pressed his face close to the other man's.
"Quiet. You want me to hurt you? Fine. But I want to make one thing clear; I am doing this because you have told me to. There will be no retribution from you. Is that acceptable?" Lester glared back at him silently. "I said, is that acceptable, James? Tell me or this stops now."
"That is acceptable," Lester ground out through clenched teeth.
"Very well. Now I don't want another word out of you unless I say so."
Becker took a step back and pulled Lester away from the wall by his neck and swung him into the centre of the bedroom before releasing him.
"Strip," he ordered.
Lester glared at him for a long moment before finally taking off his jacket. He threw it on the chair before reaching for his tie and then undoing the buttons on his shirt.
Becker shook his head. "Too slow," he said and stepped forward. He wrapped his fingers around the shirt’s expensive material and tugged sharply. Two tugs were all it took to send buttons skittering across the floor and leave Lester's shirt hanging open all the way. "Can you manage to do the rest quicker or do I need to help you some more?"
Lester glowered at him but quickly divested himself of his remaining clothes.
"Good. Now kneel." There was another long pause and Becker kept his eyes firm as Lester continued to stare at him, searching for a weakness. Finally Lester dropped to his knees but his eyes didn't waver from Becker's face.
It was Becker who broke the intense eye contact. He stepped around Lester and headed for the wardrobe. He retrieved the large box of toys and carried it over to the other man.
"This is all your doing, James. You have asked for this and you know how to make it stop at any time. So here is another choice. You decide what I use on you.”
Lester closed his eyes and heaved in a deep breath. But his hands didn't hesitate. He reached into the box and pulled out the heaviest flogger they owned, one designed to hurt rather than titillate. He held it out to Becker who took it from him with a gentle thank you. Lester finally lowered his head.
Becker returned the box to its place in the wardrobe and tested the weight of the flogger in his hands. Lester had taught him how to use them; they had had many happy times using Connor as a willing canvas to paint with long red stripes, but they had not used one this heavy before.
Becker ran his hands over Lester's shoulders, pulling a shiver from the other man. "I’m going to start shortly. Feel free to make all the noise you like."
Lester took another deep breath, trying to centre himself the way he had been taught years before. Becker's warm hands left him and he braced himself for the first hit. He heard the flogger cut through the air and his body flinched in anticipation. But no blow came. He should have expected it; Becker was testing the weight and fly of the fronds. The flogger continued to swish through the air in a steady rhythm and Lester found himself hypnotised and comforted by the noise.
When the first blow fell, slapping hard into the skin over one shoulder blade, it was unexpected and Lester cried out, his back arching. Pain flashed through his body and he knew that that had only been a warm-up strike; the worst was still to come. He braced himself as the next blow fell on the other shoulder; there was a pause and then one lower.
His body was already starting to hum with pain but he wanted more, needed more. And he needed release. His eyes squeezed shut, he reached blindly for his cock, pulling at it. But nothing was happening. The pain of the continued flogging was overriding his desire and his cock stayed limp in his hand. Shame washed over him as he imagined the image he presented; kneeling, naked, being beaten, tugging ineffectually at his limp dick. A sob escaped his throat and he gave up, bracing his hands on his knees against the continued blows that were coming harder. They were more spaced out now, Becker giving them both space to breathe between each one. Lester's world began to narrow until all he was aware of was the burning skin on his back and Becker's and his own heavy breathing.
He suddenly realised that the blows had stopped and Becker was kneeling next to him. Lester felt a hand on his face, turning him to look at the other man. Concerned eyes met his, searching before he spoke.
"You did very well, James. I wasn't sure if you were going to be able to take it that hard but you did. But I’m not finished with you yet. Stand up, I'll help you."
Lester felt himself being lifted to his feet and let himself be led to the bed.
"Get on and on your hands and knees."
Someone whimpered out a pathetic sounding 'no' and Lester feared it was him.
"Come on, James. I know you can do this. I know you're strong enough to take it."
Lester sniffed and nodded before climbing onto the bed, and adopting the required position. He heard Becker moving around and a bottle of lube landed next to his hand.
“Prepare yourself.”
Lester looked at the bottle and then up at Becker in horror.
“Tell me this isn’t part of what you need? Now do it.”
Lester looked back at the bottle before reaching out a hand and picking it up. He lowered himself to his elbows and poured some lube onto the fingers of one hand. He propped himself up with one arm and reached behind him, his head hanging low. His fingers probed at his entrance and he tentatively slid a finger inside. It had been a while since he had done this and the part of his mind still able to focus couldn’t quite let himself believe he was in this position.
He knew that Becker was watching as he slid another finger home, slowly spreading himself. He worked the lube in and out of his body, adding another finger.
“Enough.”
It didn’t even occur to Lester to question the voice behind him; he simply withdrew his hand and leant his weight onto both arms. The bed dipped behind him and strong hands spread his cheeks. Lester felt the blunt tip of Becker’s cock against him and bit his lip. It had been a long time, he wasn’t prepared enough and this was going to hurt.
Becker pushed in and Lester heard himself whine. He was almost overwhelmed with how stretched and filled he felt. Becker’s hand reached forward and tangled uncomfortably in his hair, pushing his head down into the bed as he fucked hard into him, telling him all the while how tight he was.
As he knelt, pinned and prone, being fucked by his own sub, his cock suddenly started to fill and harden. It was the final humiliation. Tears leaked from Lester’s eyes as he reached a hand down and started to stroke himself.
Becker was fucking him hard and deep, wasting no time in trying to reach his orgasm. Lester’s body rocked as the other man slammed into him over and over until the rhythm started to falter. Lester felt Becker come deep inside him with a groan and he pulled desperately at his own cock, finally spilling over his own hand with a strangled whimper.
Lester collapsed onto the bed, his mind floating away from his body. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he was suddenly aware of Becker’s hands on his back, spreading cream into his wounds, cooling and calming. Then there was more movement and Becker was lying next to him, peppering his face with kisses.
“I need him back.”
Becker’s hand smoothed over his hair. “We both do. And we’ll get him back. We’ll find a way to make him listen.”
Lester nodded and let himself be drawn into a gentle kiss before slipping into a fitful, exhausted sleep.
Becker let him carry on without a word, but as Lester then moved as if to continue with their normal evening routine he stopped him.
"Aren’t we going to talk about this?"
"I fail to see what there is to talk about. Connor won't speak to either of us in that mood so we're better off waiting until tomorrow."
"You’re not even going to check he's safe?"
"He's with Abby. We both know she will look after him, and for that matter he's quite capable of taking care of himself. I would be more concerned as to which of our body parts Abby will try to extract from us to feed to her ever-growing collection of pets."
"But James..."
"Becker!" James snapped. "There is no point discussing this! Connor is gone and it's my fault. I should have told him about us a long time ago, but I thought I knew better. What exactly do you expect me to do?"
Becker paused, halted by Lester's outburst. Lester took a deep breath.
"I’m sorry." he said, following it up with a snort. "I’m going to be saying a lot of that in the next few days." He turned to look out of the bedroom window before closing the curtains.
"What can I do? Should I talk to him?" Becker asked from behind him.
"No, not tonight. But there's something I need you to do for me."
Becker stared at James’s back; that was a tone he had never heard before.
"I need you to hurt me."
"What?"
Lester spun on him again, venom in his voice. "I said I want you to hurt me, Becker. Surely that is not outside your realm of comprehension?"
Becker bit the inside of his mouth in an attempt to keep his temper under control. He was hurting too and he didn't need James Lester's particular brand of disdain on top of that.
"I’m not going to hurt you, James."
Lester took a couple of steps forward, invading Becker's personal space until they were nearly flush together.
"Never forget who is in charge here. I am ordering you to hurt me or, so help me god, I will spend every day making you regret it."
Becker's chest hurt with the effort of keeping his breathing under control. The pair stared at each other, eyes locked together. The room was soundless save for their breathing which was becoming increasingly heavy as the tension hummed between them.
Lester finally opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Becker's hand flashing up and wrapping itself around Lester's throat. He spun them both and pushed Lester up against the wall, still keeping their bodies close but apart. Becker pressed his face close to the other man's.
"Quiet. You want me to hurt you? Fine. But I want to make one thing clear; I am doing this because you have told me to. There will be no retribution from you. Is that acceptable?" Lester glared back at him silently. "I said, is that acceptable, James? Tell me or this stops now."
"That is acceptable," Lester ground out through clenched teeth.
"Very well. Now I don't want another word out of you unless I say so."
Becker took a step back and pulled Lester away from the wall by his neck and swung him into the centre of the bedroom before releasing him.
"Strip," he ordered.
Lester glared at him for a long moment before finally taking off his jacket. He threw it on the chair before reaching for his tie and then undoing the buttons on his shirt.
Becker shook his head. "Too slow," he said and stepped forward. He wrapped his fingers around the shirt’s expensive material and tugged sharply. Two tugs were all it took to send buttons skittering across the floor and leave Lester's shirt hanging open all the way. "Can you manage to do the rest quicker or do I need to help you some more?"
Lester glowered at him but quickly divested himself of his remaining clothes.
"Good. Now kneel." There was another long pause and Becker kept his eyes firm as Lester continued to stare at him, searching for a weakness. Finally Lester dropped to his knees but his eyes didn't waver from Becker's face.
It was Becker who broke the intense eye contact. He stepped around Lester and headed for the wardrobe. He retrieved the large box of toys and carried it over to the other man.
"This is all your doing, James. You have asked for this and you know how to make it stop at any time. So here is another choice. You decide what I use on you.”
Lester closed his eyes and heaved in a deep breath. But his hands didn't hesitate. He reached into the box and pulled out the heaviest flogger they owned, one designed to hurt rather than titillate. He held it out to Becker who took it from him with a gentle thank you. Lester finally lowered his head.
Becker returned the box to its place in the wardrobe and tested the weight of the flogger in his hands. Lester had taught him how to use them; they had had many happy times using Connor as a willing canvas to paint with long red stripes, but they had not used one this heavy before.
Becker ran his hands over Lester's shoulders, pulling a shiver from the other man. "I’m going to start shortly. Feel free to make all the noise you like."
Lester took another deep breath, trying to centre himself the way he had been taught years before. Becker's warm hands left him and he braced himself for the first hit. He heard the flogger cut through the air and his body flinched in anticipation. But no blow came. He should have expected it; Becker was testing the weight and fly of the fronds. The flogger continued to swish through the air in a steady rhythm and Lester found himself hypnotised and comforted by the noise.
When the first blow fell, slapping hard into the skin over one shoulder blade, it was unexpected and Lester cried out, his back arching. Pain flashed through his body and he knew that that had only been a warm-up strike; the worst was still to come. He braced himself as the next blow fell on the other shoulder; there was a pause and then one lower.
His body was already starting to hum with pain but he wanted more, needed more. And he needed release. His eyes squeezed shut, he reached blindly for his cock, pulling at it. But nothing was happening. The pain of the continued flogging was overriding his desire and his cock stayed limp in his hand. Shame washed over him as he imagined the image he presented; kneeling, naked, being beaten, tugging ineffectually at his limp dick. A sob escaped his throat and he gave up, bracing his hands on his knees against the continued blows that were coming harder. They were more spaced out now, Becker giving them both space to breathe between each one. Lester's world began to narrow until all he was aware of was the burning skin on his back and Becker's and his own heavy breathing.
He suddenly realised that the blows had stopped and Becker was kneeling next to him. Lester felt a hand on his face, turning him to look at the other man. Concerned eyes met his, searching before he spoke.
"You did very well, James. I wasn't sure if you were going to be able to take it that hard but you did. But I’m not finished with you yet. Stand up, I'll help you."
Lester felt himself being lifted to his feet and let himself be led to the bed.
"Get on and on your hands and knees."
Someone whimpered out a pathetic sounding 'no' and Lester feared it was him.
"Come on, James. I know you can do this. I know you're strong enough to take it."
Lester sniffed and nodded before climbing onto the bed, and adopting the required position. He heard Becker moving around and a bottle of lube landed next to his hand.
“Prepare yourself.”
Lester looked at the bottle and then up at Becker in horror.
“Tell me this isn’t part of what you need? Now do it.”
Lester looked back at the bottle before reaching out a hand and picking it up. He lowered himself to his elbows and poured some lube onto the fingers of one hand. He propped himself up with one arm and reached behind him, his head hanging low. His fingers probed at his entrance and he tentatively slid a finger inside. It had been a while since he had done this and the part of his mind still able to focus couldn’t quite let himself believe he was in this position.
He knew that Becker was watching as he slid another finger home, slowly spreading himself. He worked the lube in and out of his body, adding another finger.
“Enough.”
It didn’t even occur to Lester to question the voice behind him; he simply withdrew his hand and leant his weight onto both arms. The bed dipped behind him and strong hands spread his cheeks. Lester felt the blunt tip of Becker’s cock against him and bit his lip. It had been a long time, he wasn’t prepared enough and this was going to hurt.
Becker pushed in and Lester heard himself whine. He was almost overwhelmed with how stretched and filled he felt. Becker’s hand reached forward and tangled uncomfortably in his hair, pushing his head down into the bed as he fucked hard into him, telling him all the while how tight he was.
As he knelt, pinned and prone, being fucked by his own sub, his cock suddenly started to fill and harden. It was the final humiliation. Tears leaked from Lester’s eyes as he reached a hand down and started to stroke himself.
Becker was fucking him hard and deep, wasting no time in trying to reach his orgasm. Lester’s body rocked as the other man slammed into him over and over until the rhythm started to falter. Lester felt Becker come deep inside him with a groan and he pulled desperately at his own cock, finally spilling over his own hand with a strangled whimper.
Lester collapsed onto the bed, his mind floating away from his body. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he was suddenly aware of Becker’s hands on his back, spreading cream into his wounds, cooling and calming. Then there was more movement and Becker was lying next to him, peppering his face with kisses.
“I need him back.”
Becker’s hand smoothed over his hair. “We both do. And we’ll get him back. We’ll find a way to make him listen.”
Lester nodded and let himself be drawn into a gentle kiss before slipping into a fitful, exhausted sleep.